


Strip Poker

by merryfortune



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's, Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Bondage, Chastity Device, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Femdom, Fingering, Interspecies Sex, Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, Other, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Shibari, Tentacle Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2019-08-22 00:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 14,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16587641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryfortune/pseuds/merryfortune
Summary: Collection of smutty drabbles either requested over Tumblr or too short to be considered their own, viable fic.Chapter one functions as a table of contents so check inside for not currently tagged ships, characters, and kinks.





	1. Table of Contents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to send requests using this prompt list: https://merryfortune.tumblr.com/post/179980057150/aisaki-emiru-nsfw-monster-themed-prompts-send

**Jetlag**

  * **Ship:** Scoopshipping| Jack/Carly
  * **Universe:** 5D’s – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** M
  * **Tags:** Fluff, Non-Explicit Sex



**Damned Dirty Dog**

  * **Ship:** Hireshipping| Akira/Ema
  * **Universe:** Vrains – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Dirty Talk, Gendered Slurs, Bondage, Femdom, Chastity Device, Lingerie



**Spider**

  * **Ship:** Scoopshipping| Jack/Carly
  * **Universe:** 5D’s – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Shibari, Bondage, Male Dom & Female Sub, Fingering



**Cumbersome Fantasies**

  * **Ship:** Respectfulshipping| Revolver/Spectre
  * **Universe:** Vrains – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy, Dendrophilia, Sexual Humiliation, Slight Mummy Kink, Kink Shaming, Foreign Object Insertion (mentioned)



**Reflections of Them Both**

  * **Ship:** Respectfulshipping| Revolver/Spectre
  * **Universe:** Vrains – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Explicit Sex, Rough Sex, Doggy Style, In Front of a Mirror



**Sweet Cream**

  * **Ship:** Pathwayshipping| Ema
  * **Universe:** Vrains – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Food & Drink, Blowjob, Kitchen Sex



**Light as Silk**

  * Ship: not applicable| Lightning/Windy
  * Universe: Vrains – Canon Compliant
  * Rating: M
  * Tags: Non-Explicit Sex



**Gunmetal**

  * **Ship:** not applicable| Revolver/Ryoken
  * **Universe:** Vrains – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Explicit Sex, Wet Dreams, Blowjobs, Bondage, Selfcest, Threesome – M/M/M



**Carnality as a Whole**

  * **Ship:** not applicable| Earth/Spectre
  * **Universe:** Vrains – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Explicit Sex, Tentacle Sex, Oral Sex, Interrupted Masturbation, Sex Toys, Oviposition, Anal Sex, Interspecies Sex, Rough Sex



**Ceiling-to-Floor (Upside-Down)**

  * **Ship:** Hireshipping| Akira/Ema
  * **Universe:** Vrains – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Explicit Sex, Cowgirl Position, In Front of A Mirror



**Shepherd’s Pie**

  * **Ship:** Infectshipping| Aso/Taki
  * **Universe:** Vrains – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Semi-Explicit Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk



**Life and Love Lines**

  * **Ship:** Respectfulshipping| Revolver/Spectre
  * **Universe:** Vrains – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Explicit Sex, Anal Sex, Gags



**Kitten**

  * **Ship:** Hireshipping| Akira/Ema
  * **Universe:** Vrains – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Non-Explicit Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Dom/sub, Male Dom, Female Sub, Collars & Leashes, Gendered Slurs, Dirty Talk, Stepping



**Fawnish Tendencies**

  * **Ship:** not applicable| Ema/Hayami
  * **Universe:** Vrains – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Explicit Sex, Lesbian Sex, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Face Sitting



**Blurred Night**

  * **Ship:** not applicable| Akari/Droite
  * **Universe:** Zexal – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** M
  * **Tags:** Non-Explicit Sex, Slight Dub-Con, Drunk Sex, Lesbian Sex, Implied Oral Sex, Making Out, Slight Nipple Play



**Inky Drool**

  * **Ship:** Piushipping | Ai/Ryoken
  * **Universe:** Vrains – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Explicit Sex, Tentacle Sex, Anal Sex, Slight Voice Kink



**Bang, Bang**

  * **Ship:** not applicable| Revolver/Ryoken
  * **Universe:** Vrains – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Explicit Sex, Surreal Elements, Strap-Ons, Slight Weapons Play, Guns, Anal Sex, Degrading Language



**Mourning Rain**

  * **Ship:** not applicable| Aqua/Ema
  * **Universe:** Vrains – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Explicit Sex, Tentacle Sex, Clothed Sex, Grief/Mourning, Slight Angst



**Barking Mad**

  * **Ship:** not applicable| Spectre/Sunavalon Melias
  * **Universe:** Vrains – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:**
  * **Tags:** Mildly Dubious Consent, Explicit Sex, Tentacle Sex, Thigh Sex, Anal Sex, No Lube, Slight Dom/Sub Dynamic



**With Pleasure, Sir**

  * **Ship:** Respectfulshipping| Revolver/Spectre
  * **Universe:** Vrains – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Dirty Talk, Handjobs, Non-Explicit Sex




	2. Jetlag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Separation anxiety induced sex.

   Though he was a Turbo Duelist, Jack wasn’t the only one in the household with a high roller life that often took him far and wide, therefore disrupting otherwise complacent, New Domino City domesticity. Carly was just as guilty as jet-setting as Jack was, though her forays into the wider world weren’t quite as glamorous as Jack’s due to the dichotomy of her being a journalist and him being a celebrity.

   Nonetheless, between them both, it was Jack who tended to get homesick for her whenever she was gone. Their apartment just wasn’t right without her fluffing about and sharing beds and making coffee and complaining about her rivals in the industry.

   So, when Jack heard the front door open whilst he was at the kitchen table, thumbing through a game of Duel Links, though, he wouldn’t admit it, he was ecstatic.

   “I’m home,” Carly’s voice rang out and Jack was up and about immediately.

   Near materialising in front of her before she could even heft her luggage inside, Jack appeared before her and took her by the waist. Like a dance, though fumbled, he brought her inside. Carly’s hand flopping for the handle of her luggage but as she felt Jack’s lips on her neck, she had a feeling that she wasn’t going to be collapsing on the lounge in exhaustion any time soon.

   “Welcome home,” Jack mumbled into her neck.

   Carly laughed. The vibrations of his voice on her skin felt funny but she enjoyed it nonetheless. She placed her hands gently on the crook of Jack’s elbows as he held onto her with a nigh ravenous passion. He continued to kiss along her neck and upwards unto her jawline.

   “You want to go to the bedroom?” she asked.

   Jack’s reply was mumbled but Carly understood nonetheless.

   “Well, take me away then, big boy.” she flirted.

   Jack grinned and pulled back. Carly could feel the tingle of a light hickey on her skin; though, it probably wouldn’t bruise just yet. Still, Jack’s hands slipped from her waist and he took hold of her hand. With grace and poise, almost neatly masking the lust radiating from him, Jack took Carly to the bedroom.

   Carly flopped onto the bed and it bounced slightly beneath her playful weight. She propped herself up slightly, her hair already amiss from contact with the sheets and blankets. She wriggled out of her vest and then popped off her shirt. Jack undressed as well.

   He then joined her on the bed. Crawling unto her lap and he held her waist. His fingers gently danced along the rolls of her body fat as he nudged a kiss between them; nuzzling her forehead and then pecking her lips. Carly kissed back with enthusiasm; her hands knotting behind Jack’s head.

   He smelt and tasted of coffee. Carly adored it. She missed the taste and scents of him, even though she had only been away from a fortnight.

   Jack ground against her pelvis and Carly responded by letting her legs cling to Jack. The rasp of his leather pants meeting Carly’s denim jeans pricked in the air. Carly moaned. Jack hummed contentedly, and his grind increased in pace. Carly’s kissing became messier every time he let himself tick over into a different, quicker rhythm. He had dearly missed the way Carly let him know, ever so lewdly and sweetly, that she was liking his movements.

   Jack found himself holding Carly as he kissed. His hands inched up the smooth of her back until his fingers flicked at the clasp on her bra. She wasn’t wearing anything nice; she rarely did but still, the fabric of it drove him wild even its frugal simplicity.

   Carly broke off the kiss. “Stop teasing,” she whined.

   “With pleasure.” Jack replied in a low and sultry voice.

 

 


	3. Damned Dirty Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira is Ema's horny dog.

   Ema yanked on the leash which was clipped unto the collar she had tightened, perhaps a touch too much, around Akira’s neck. He shivered. Goosebumps rising on his pale skin and scrawny shoulders.

   “Say it,” Ema commanded.

   Akira blushed. His erection tightened between his legs. It pressured against his plasticky chastity belt secured around his waist and around his thighs. His whole body was hot and yet, Ema looked so cool and calm. Akira licked his lips. Everything about him hesitated. Ema laughed.

   “Say it,” she commanded again, “or else.”

   And, for emphasis, Ema hefted her leg up onto the flat of the chair where Akira sat, tied-up. Akira’s eyes travelled from the tip of her black stilettos then along the thick sheen of her dark grey stockings and got lost in the lacy, almost floral intricacies of the fabric. Her plump upper thighs looked delectable, Akira would give anything in this moment to be able to kiss them, but he knew that wasn’t within the game Ema intended for them. At least not yet.

  Then, to break Akira’s lustful reverie, Ema smacked the leg of the chair with her riding crop. He jumped; his restraints bumping against the back of the chair. Akira swallowed.

   “I-I’m… I’m your dirty slut,” Akira very embarrassedly admitted.

   “Damn straight you are, you dog,” Ema said, and she caressed the side of Akira’s face.

   She smiled fiendishly. She relished the way her partner squirmed at her domination of him.


	4. Spider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's domination of Carly leaves her feeling like a spider's prey.

   Jack’s finger slipped down the tight, thin coil of rope. The friction was pleasant. There was not a single bump or coarse part of it; all of it was nearly silken with how cohesive it was. The rope was bound tight enough between Carly’s breasts and down her stomach to remain rigid. Her back was perfectly straight. Her wrists tied behind her back. It coiled around her legs and seemed to bring all attention to her vagina. Though, there was beauty in the complexity in which she had been tied-up.

   Carly held her breath, watching as Jack teased her. She panted slightly. She felt the coil of rope down her body and between her legs. The tight bondage keeping her restrained. The knots of which were diminutive so as to not take away from the rather smooth and clean edges of the rope and the curves that Carly possessed naturally. She looked gorgeous: the pale of her skin accentuated by the rose red bondage.

   “Please,” she murmured, “finger me.”

   Jack pressed a surprisingly chaste kiss unto Carly’s lips. She kissed back: hard and fervent. Jack was the one to pull back first despite Carly’s rather needy technique. He licked his lips. He tasted a faint, strawberry balm.

   “With pleasure, my dear.” Jack replied in a low, husky voice.

   He lifted his finger curtly above her naval; slightly obscured by the red rope they had used. Then he teased the hood of her clit. She whimpered. Then, he plunged his index finger inside of her. His movements were slow and calculated. He teased out every bit of her voice: hissing and pleasured. Then, he slipped in a second.

   Carly’s voice caught in her throat as she felt the addition. She shivered. Her back arched. Her body ached. She did not defy her binds though. They stiffened with her; following her movements ever so tightly but without disturbing her skin with overt agitation or burning.

   Her voice, sharp but restrained, edged Jack. He kissed her again. Her gaping mouth as she squirmed beneath him. He wanted to taste more of the red of her lips but also, the red of the rope. He held her still and dragged his kiss from her lips unto her jawline. Slowly, he worked his way down until his mouth met the knot atop her chest: holding the rope which split her chest and made all sorts of geometric shapes across her back. He suckled it, nearly, with how he kissed it with heightened amour.

   Carly’s heart pounded in her chest. Jack could feel it as he kissed the knot at the centre point of her chest. Carly felt as though she were the prey in a spider’s web and, in all honesty, all she wanted was to be devoured.


	5. Cumbersome Fantasies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spectre gets off to Ryoken and all the wonderful things he would like to do with him sexually. But, some the culmination is an orgasm which is a touch contradictory.

   The fantasy… was the fantasy, itself. In the simplest terms.

   Spectre grasped his manhood and he could feel himself become so hot and bothered as he chastised himself for having such impure thoughts about his master.

   “Hey, Spectre,” Ryoken would, ideally, say and ever so casually, “do you have fantasies?”

   Spectre adored the idea of being interrogated by Ryoken. Poked and probed verbally with a scathing tongue so that Ryoken could dissect his sexual psyche for his own amusement. Just a passing fascinating.

   Spectre blushed. “Of course, I have fantasies. Don’t we all?”

   He imagined Ryoken’s laughter and agreement. True, true… And Spectre’s breath hitched. Then, to flatter himself, Ryoken would take the initiative.

   “My biggest fantasy,” he would say, “would be to fuck you over a desk. Or maybe against a wall. Prove to you that you’re the second in command in every sense of the word.”

   Spectre could vividly imagine such a scene. His slacks and underwear would be around his ankles. His jacket long discarded and the blouse underneath ravaged by Ryoken’s roaming hands. He would be facing the wall, breathing slowly, as he accepted every thrust from Ryoken in no different a state of undress as him. Though, perhaps not as dishevelled.

   Or, alternatively, if it was over a desk, he would imagine his chest to the flat of the mahogany desk. Nose to it and his erect nipples pushing against it; the friction hurting slightly as Ryoken commands him to spread his legs apart, so he could better thrust into him. All whilst inhaling the musk of sex and the lingering fumes of wood.

   Spectre had plenty more fantasies. After all, part of the scenario he best gets off on, is explaining these things to Ryoken. Those were just the vanilla things, Spectre desires. Being dominated by that whom he loved and lusted for but there were other things.

   Spectre liked to be in control as well. He idealised himself as being a versatile or switch. He liked the idea of having Ryoken be subject to all the slings and arrows of Spectre’s sexual arsenal. And there were a good few weapons in there.

   He wanted to do a few things that Spectre was certain Ryoken would find humiliating. These were things such as letting Spectre penetrate him with a cucumber whilst he was all different types of tied up or bound. Spectre had all sorts of fantasies regarding vegetables and trees. He liked the idea of being fucked against a desk, particularly a wooden one, for a good reason or being able to express himself outdoors, in nature. He was also fond of using the colloquialism of “wood” to refer to both his penis but Ryoken’s but there were still other things which Spectre enjoyed exploring in this masturbatory manner.

   Though, such things would prove to be the most embarrassing yet. He liked to imagine Ryoken allowing Spectre to indulge in fantasies which were incest adjacent.

   Spectre had a desire which was stronger than he would like to admit, but he wanted to be babied. He wanted – nay, he needed – this fantasied unconditional love and for whatever reason, it manifested sexually too as this curiosity with Ryoken’s chest. Spectre enjoyed the idea of embracing Ryoken – or, being embraced by him – and being able to suckle from Ryoken’s nipples. Licking them over and kissing them and, if Spectre really needed something extra to get off, eliciting milk from them too. All whilst under the permission of Ryoken to call him “Mummy”.

   The fantasy of this casual conversation wherein Spectre could wholeheartedly bare all of his sexual soul to Ryoken was the greatest fantasy of all. He could feel his cock twitch beneath the digits of his fingers.

   And yet, as Spectre panted as he stimulated himself unto orgasm, part of the integral fantasy was the humiliation of such a thing. Having Ryoken stick up his nose and call him disgusting. Call him abhorrent and a pervert; so many other things too. And it all riled up Spectre and gave him the final push.

   How complicated but gratifying.


	6. Reflections of Them Both

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryoken thinks they're both quite beautiful.

   Spectre panted and Ryoken gave a great thrust. His body shuddered, and his eyes snapped open. His lungs ached, and his head began to fall but Ryoken’s hands, as tight as cuffs, dug into Spectre.

   “No, look up.” he growled.

   Ryoken thrust once more and then reached over. His hands roughly grabbed at the back of Spectre’s head. He grasped thick strands of Spectre’s hair, so dishevelled and out place, and yanked back. Spectre sucked in a grand breath and kept his eyes open.

   Everything Ryoken did to him, everything he was doing himself, was reflected back to him. The floor length mirror, more often than not hidden behind the other sliding doors, was exposed to its fullest extent and Spectre saw himself. Chewed on and bitten, sweaty and red, and Ryoken in a similar state.

   Ryoken bore a narcissistic, lusty grin and continued to rut into Spectre. Spectre mewled beneath him, so hot in the head with the sensations of it all. All whilst they both watched themselves in the mirror. Ryoken with fantastic relish enjoyed the vanity of these moments so utterly revealing of them both.

   But Spectre?

   Spectre found himself confronted with all that he could otherwise ignore. The imperfections of his body and the way he so grotesquely conveyed himself. It was off-putting. After all, Spectre had complexes regarding his appearance. From the mental scars of being bullied in the orphanage to the physical scars of being electrocuted over and over during the Incident, he preferred to hide himself.

   His only consolation, of course, was that in a way he had two Revolvers to pleasure him so deeply and roughly.  After all, Ryoken was beautiful. Even when he was alight with adrenaline: both good and bad. And to have that second Ryoken before him, even if it was at the detriment of being forced to see his own body reflected back unto him, Spectre could enjoy the view, and perhaps consequent vanity, as well. 

   Ryoken was fierce in his lust and that made for agonising pleasure for Spectre who took upon such vicious passion upon his body. And to be able to see his expressions, so dark and lusting, that fired up Spectre. Reminded him that he wasn’t the only one in this relationship with twisted eccentricities. It was those such notions truly caused his cock to strain against his stomach as he was on all fours on the bed, in front of the mirror and the reflections of them both.


	7. Sweet Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ema and Shoichi have a perfectly normal conversation about frosting cakes.

   One thing Ema had been surprised by was that Shoichi was actually a good and well-rounded cook. She had assumed that due to his fast food truck, he would only specialise in the sloppy and greasy, but she had been wrong, and she couldn’t have been gladder in such error. After all, what woman doesn’t dream of a man who can sweep her off her feet with all sorts of glamorous meals? And Shoichi was capable of all sorts of dinners which got her tongue wagging.

   But there was one thing about Shoichi which got Ema’s tongue wagging more frequently than his ability to cook and that was his skill at sex. He was, perhaps, a touch slovenly and even lazy but he did know to satisfy her, never rushing foreplay and making sure he gave Ema the proper appetiser and he was always down to experiment. Something Ema was very thankful for, given her collection of all things bound in leather and silicon.

   Regardless, it was all too frequent for Ema to come into the kitchen with something other than food on her mind. Something that Shoichi was, most of the time, all too happy to oblige because that was a sweet treat that even he could get behind.

   “What are you making?” Ema asked as she skulked into the kitchen, creeping up on Shoichi who had his back to her.

   “A cake.” he replied.

   “Oh, what for?” Ema asked.

   “Jin’s birthday is comin’ up.” Shoichi replied.

   “That’ll be nice,” Ema mused, nodding her head slightly, “may I try some?”

   “Of course.” Shoichi replied with a sigh.

   Ema glanced at him and she could sense the health code violation drilled into him slowly emanate out. But she stuck her finger in the bowl and scooped up some of the batter. She popped it in her mouth and mulled over the taste.

   “Sweet.” she replied, coming to the obvious conclusion.

   “Not as sweet as you.” Shoichi flirted.

   Ema harrumphed. “Can I try another treat?” she asked, her voice sultry.

   Her hand slowly reached down. She hooked her finger, still sticky, around one of his belt loops. She tugged at it and batted her eyes at him when he curtly glanced back to her.

   “Depends.” Shoichi said as he quit stirring the bowl. “Can I put the mix in the oven first?”

   “Nope.” Ema chirruped.

   He sighed and moved the bowl slightly away from the edge of the table. Ema gave him some room and Shoichi turned around for her. He began to tug at his zip and Ema was more than happy to assist him.

   She knelt down, and he held onto the bench. Resting awkwardly against it as Ema readied herself. Their eyes locked for a tantalising moment as Ema got past his ugly jock strap. Still, she made idle conversation with him.

   “Were you think buttercream frosting? Or icing?” she asked and then put her mouth to his cockhead.

   Shoichi sucked in a breath as he felt Ema’s warm tongue on his skin. “Icing. Just a bit of sugar an’ butter.”

   Ema mumbled a response as she tested herself, seeing how far down Shoichi could go into her mouth as of this moment. The answer, she discerned, was not very far; he was still flaccid too. She drew back.

   “I’m in the mood for cream personally.” she teased and then licked his slit.

   “I was gonna colour it purple and cream’s too hard to keep purple.” Shoichi replied. His cheeks flushed as he took another deep, steady breath. He was beginning to harden for Ema.

   “Uh-huh.” Ema said before she continued to go down on him.


	8. Light As Silk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surely sexual functions are useless to their species.

   “I want to try sex.” the Wind Ignis announced to the Light Ignis.

   The Light Ignis was perched on a tree branch in the Wind Ignis’ domain. He was looking up and reading the wind, calculating its knots and where it had come from. That sort of thing as it was more amusing than making the active effort to spend time with the Wind Ignis.

   The Light Ignis was visiting for no reason other than to humour the Wind Ignis and it seemed the Wind Ignis had finally revealed why he had insisted that the Light Ignis should visit. And now, he won’t lie. He was slightly amused by the notion.

   “You mean that thing organic creatures do to produce more organic creatures?” the Light Ignis inquired, almost sarcastic.

   “Yes. That thing.” huffed the Wind Ignis.

   “Alright.” the Light Ignis consented, far too nonchalant as it alarmed the Wind Ignis.

   He prickled. “I thought you would ask ‘why’ or protest.” he said.

   “I see no reason to. It could be interesting. After all, our species doesn’t have the physical capabilities, but we are an emotive species nonetheless, and we are permitted to feel things; we have sensory organs, after all. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it would be a waste of our free will not to experiment.” the Light Ignis casually explained.

   “You make it sound boring.” the Wind Ignis said.

   “That implies you know how to make it sound… exciting, yes?” the Light Ignis inquired.

   “Well, duh.” the Wind Ignis shrugged.

   “Very well. Have you any ideas?” asked the Light Ignis.

   “Yes. A couple.” the Wind Ignis defensively replied.

   “Fascinating. Continue.” the Light Ignis permitted.

   The Wind Ignis huffed. “We could try kissing, rubbing, touching… Oh, and rapid data transfer. We could try using different objects, but I haven’t any prepared. Well, I did but they were so crude that I didn’t even want to put them up your poncy ass.”

   “How about I take the lead, then.” the Light Ignis said.

   Gracefully, he removed his languid self from the tree branch. He placed a hand on the Wind Ignis shoulder, and he stiffened. He seemed wary, disliking, of what was happening. Especially as the Light Ignis caressed his cheek.

   “You will merely have to trust me.” the Light Ignis continued.

   “I see …” the Wind Ignis murmured.

   “Now, allow me.” the Light Ignis said in a sultry voice, light as silk.


	9. Gunmetal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three is a crowd, even when it's me, myself, and I, Ryoken discovers.

   Ryoken’s nerves prickled and he groaned. He felt hands on him. Two sets of hands, leather on the skin beneath his pyjamas as he tossed and turned in the night, unable to sleep but not exactly awake either. He kept his head on his pillow, buried tight as he was in this strange place between consciousness and unconsciousness.

   It was difficult to say when the disconnect happened. One moment, yes, he was trying to sleep and the next, he found himself on a chair, upright and bound. And those hands, and the leather too, all found places and figures in the world that Ryoken’s mind contained.

   Ryoken stiffened as his cheeks were forcibly grabbed by a white-gloved hand and his eyes forced to stare into his own eyes. But that wasn’t necessarily correct. Ryoken had blue eyes and the eyes that he was staring into, with gritted teeth, were yellow. A stark and souless yellow which burned with a feral hue.

   “We’re going to have so much fun.” Revolver - his abandoned avatar - told him with a flirtatious yet brutal curl of his voice.

   “I don’t doubt that.” Ryoken replied as Revolver let go of his face.

   Behind, he felt a yank. His bondage tightened; thick, velvet ropes which dug into and across his chest. He was forced to straighten his back as there were furhter tugs at the ropes, tying up his wrists for good and binding him to the chair. He felt his cock harden in anticipation and Revolver spread apart his legs.

   “I demand that you kiss me.” Revolver - his new avatar - told him and revealed himself as the Ryoken who had readjusted his binds.

   Ryoken turned his head and now, he was greeted with a more palatably human face. Another in which he had designed with eyes of gunmetal grey. Revolver. He kissed that person, if he could be considered a person at all. After all, he was a figment of a dream, a collection of data, not a true person. Just another expression of Ryoken’s own self.

   And yet, he opened his mouth to that Revolver regardless whilst the first Revolver, the Revolver of a hellion appearance, forced apart his virgin legs and sucked him off. Ryoken took an incipient breath as he felt both tongues explore and ravish him. The imagined feel of their tongues, like beasts, caused him to a shiver and to ignite a tremendous lust inside of him. A guilty, self-indulgent lust which consumed his blood and soul.

   Ryoken groaned. The guttural noise reverberated in his throat as the Revolver who was kissing him pressed on. His technique was aggressive, but not abrasive. Almost charming as he forced Ryoken to submit to him as he was the true white knight between them. Ryoken closed his eyes to him, but he could feel Revolver’s grey-blue eyes pierce into him, watching him and his reluctantly submissive expressions.

   And for the Revolver who was ravishing his cock, Ryoken groaned as well. Deep and breathy as he felt the heady strokes of an almost animalistic tongue explore along his erect length. This Revolver was aggressive and abrasive, taken over by primal and near hellish forces of a mind addled with lust and guilt. It felt good though. To have his hands, like claws, dig into his thighs whilst he sucked him off with beastly confidence.

   Ryoken took a whistling breath through his nose and he felt those white-leather bound hands clamp onto him tighter. On his thighs, and on his shoulders as he was kissed and ravished. He groaned and he felt reality somewhere in this submerged and grotesque dream. He panted. And he panted until there was nothing at all. Until the ropes fell away, turned into the sheets that he had all been twisted up into his sleep and he came.

   His head was lofty with half-remembered details but those tongues, those eyes, those hands. Himself. He would never forget his self as his emission splattered throughout his days’ old linen. A foul stench, of sweat and semen, drifted through his dizzy head but he inhaled strongly nonetheless as it elicited some form of gratification. One which was born of a unique narcissism; incest of the self, imagined and otherwise constructed with images and data. Ryoken groaned, felt flushed yet satisfied.


	10. Carnality As A Whole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Earth disrupts Spectre's masturbation.

   Spectre’s brows twinged and his hips gave an involuntary buck. He sucked in a sudden breath as he promised himself not to cuss as he found such words too be too vulgar in his mouth, but given his current circumstances, an appeal for the blunt could be made. As this was not the usual flowery lip service that he would give, not even unto himself.

   There was an unexpected downside - and unexpected benefit - about having an Ignis take residence in his Duel Disc. It had been a great arc and a half to rescue and revive Earth, but it had been worth it as Spectre now found himself satisfied in ways that he had never been before. Content. Whole. And he enjoyed the companionship with his Ignis, Earth, greatly. He thinks he might see a reflection of himself in Earth, if things had gone ‘right’ for him, perhaps. If certain things had never happened to him then, perhaps, Spectre might enjoy such a placid and likeable, if awkward, personality.

   But what had happened had happened. And, similarly, what was happening now to Spectre - to he and Earth both, really - was all connected.

   It was true that Spectre enjoyed friendship with his Ignis, but he never would have thought that he could enjoy anything beyond that. Theirs was a platonic wholeness, but not necessarily, as Spectre discovered when he inadvertently awoken Earth from his nap in his Duel Disc - something Spectre hadn’t even thought about, truth be told but then again, when it came to his more unseemly habits, he did care little for thin walls and the like.

   Honestly, having an audience - willing or otherwise - turned him on. And when Earth had risen out of Spectre’s Duel Disc as he had, tired and bleary-eyed, he had been rather shocked to find Spectre as he had. That is to say, open legged with an ovipositor embedded partially into his anus and of course, his hand on his erect cock, a thin and willowy thing, and jerking himself off unto climax. And the noises he was making, so lewd and freeing, it was more than enough to revile the prudish Earth.

   Earth’s eyes widened and his hands had flailed about but Spectre had hardly batted an eye. He simply continued to manipulate himself, bringing himself to his pleasure but Earth had grown curious. He had to admit, he had never seen displays of human pleasure before - or their mating at all. Unlike some of his cohort who were far too morbidly curious about all those sorts of things.

   So, Earth had shyly asked and Spectre, admittedly, keened at the prospect of it. After all, he always did have a thing for tentacles… Thus, both Origin and Ignis were entwined. Perhaps as it ought to be, perhaps not. After all, the better half of fate had tried very hard to keep them apart.

   Now, Spectre was enjoying more than just platonic companionship with his darling Earth, but a carnal companionship as well and honestly, it was far more rewarding than what his own hands - and sex toys - could do for him. As, well, awkward and clumsy as Earth was. But Spectre didn’t mind, he relished how virginal it was despite the grotesqueness of it.

   After all, he had two of Earth’s tentacles splayed out across his chest, the pads of which were bumping over his hardened nipples, another two gripping onto his hips and the final two winding around his thighs, keeping him exactly where Earth wanted. And, of course, Earth’s tail brushing up and around and between where Spectre had lodged the ovipositor into his anus.

   Admittedly, the ovipositor was unnecessary. After all, what were true tentacles - despite the synthetic skin - compared to such a clunky and awkward sex toy? But Spectre had paid too much money for it and had spent too much time preparing the gelatine that feeds into it, to reject at this point. Especially considering that it wasn’t quite empty just yet.

   Spectre simpered beneath Earth’s touch. He bucked his hips again and Earth grinded back. Spectre cooed and Earth’s eyes twinged. Uncertain if he was doing anything good or right but his human most certainly seemed content beneath it all whilst his tentacles continued to feel him up and twist and curl.

   Spectre had been using his hands to keep himself propped up against Earth’s weight, which was surprisingly not much but he certainly gave the illusion of a grand bulk and that was more than enough to cause Spectre some foibles. He uncertainly pawed at his cock. It twitched at his airless touches and leaked precum. The ovipositor continued to rumble.

   “C-Can you turn it up a notch? It’s on the side, close to the base. Big switch, can’t miss it.” Spectre panted.

   “O-Of course.” Earth panickily replied.

   His left tentacle unwound from around Spectre’s thigh. Earth felt up the device that Spectre was using. It was silicon-based and a rather garish green in colour with all sorts of odd adornments on it, including veins. If Earth could breathe, he would have held his breath as he fumbled with the thing. Spectre didn’t mind. He took a breath and let his head loll back. He was slick with sweat but enjoying himself greatly. Earth flicked over the switch and the device whirred. It gave a pump and another gelatinous egg was fed into Spectre’s willing hole. He sighed.

   “Pl-Please, more.” Spectre begged.

   “I’ll try…” Earth murmured.

   He nervously hovered over the switch. Before, it had been on medium, before that, it had been on beginner, and now it was finally into the hard mode. Earth nattered as he allowed it go up that level.

   Spectre crooned loudly beneath Earth and the ovipositor gave a great whirr. Slime and melted gelatine dripped around Spectre’s hole and he bit his lower lip as another egg entered his system. His whole body ached.

   “Very good Earth.” he praised.

   “I’m glad.” Earth replied, nervous, and jostled against Spectre again.

   The impact caused Spectre to feel everything inside of him all the more tightly. His head lolled back again, and his chest ached, his heart pounded erratically inside his chest. For a moment, his vision went white and he felt sublime.

   “Now, Earth, I have another request of you.” Spectre continued, all but begging. “I want you to fuck me senseless. Please, with your tentacles, your mouth, I don’t care, just give it to me as hard as you can.”

   “I - I don’t think I can, Spectre,” Earth replied, flustered.

   “You can. I believe in you, partner.” Spectre crooned sweetly.

   “Alright, I’ll try.” Earth said.

   So, carefully, he dislodged the ovipositor from Spectre’s anus. Spectre moaned as it was removed with deft gentleness. Earth set it aside with muted disgust, it oozed a green-coloured sludge which slightly unsettled him, but he focused on how good it was making Spectre fell. And that helped quell his nerves.

   With two of his bulky and paddle-like tentacles, he encircled Spectre’s anus. He purred at the touch.

   “Rougher, please.” Spectre asked of him with a silken voice.

   “If you say so.” Earth replied and that bolstered his confidence.

   Spectre mewled beneath him as he was, essentially, finger-fucked by his Ignis. His legs quivered either side of Earth’s great and abomination-like body. His hips bucked and his cock begged for release. Earth noticed and, felt emboldened, let his tongue drop from his mouth, beyond his jagged teeth. Spectre keened at the sight of his tongue.

   Earth dragged it along Spectre’s cockhead. He flexed it well, curling and uncurling around Spectre’s rock-hard erection. He moaned and yelled. Bucking his hips excitedly as Earth kept him restrained. The friction making it all the more fun. Earth grunted as he licked up Spectre’s cock and tried to push himself into Spectre’s anus, as gently as he could even though that Spectre seemed to adore it rough.

   “O-Oh, Earth,” Spectre moaned, “I-I’m…”

   “Y-You’re what?” Earth queried, a wobbling voice.

   Spectre panted and interrupted his own orgasm with his release. He closed his eyes and he couldn’t count all the sensations. He just felt them. All at once. The tongue, the tentacles, the slimy, gelatine eggs up his ass. It was all so wonderful; he couldn’t contain the ardent lust inside himself which trembled. He came unto Earth’s mouth. An ooze of off-white across the Ignis’ mouth, dripping down his rounded chin.

   Earth retracted his tongue. He licked, awkwardly, at his mouth and was disgusted by the taste. Spectre sighed and the tentacles binding him slowly fell away. Spectre allowed himself to drop back unto his fluffy bed.

   “So, what are you?” Earth asked.

   Spectre simply laughed in reply.


	11. Ceiling-to-Floor (Upside-Down)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira has some reservations about Ema's floor length mirror.

   When Ema led him into her room, trailing in the heady scent of her floral perfume, Akira had been quite nervous. A nervousness which doubled down the moment that he saw her giant, ceiling-to-floor mirror. He passed by himself as she twirled him onto her bed. He hit the edge of it and bounced on it slightly; not a sound. Ema positioned herself, swiftly, between his legs and his own reflection.

   Akira awkwardly leaned away whilst Ema drew in nearer. Ema noticed as she laced her hands across his neck and his neck was partially stretched out. She turned her head slightly.

   “Is something the matter, sweetheart?” she asked.

   “Er yes, I mean. No. Everything is fine.” Akira panickily replied, a bead of sweat running down his brow.

   Ema playfully poked his face. “It’s fine, you can tell me.” she told him.

   “D-Does the mirror have like a cover or…?” Akira asked.

   “No.” Ema replied, dragging out the simple answer. She glanced again at the mirror. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

   “I – I don’t think so… Well, maybe…” Akira replied.

   Ema cracked a whip-like smile and she nuzzled up against Akira. Her warm breath cast a sultry spell on him which caused his nerves to enflame. But he liked this burning feeling even as his cheeks reddened.

   “Don’t worry, dear, I’ll make sure you like it by the end of the night.” She told him.

   “O-Oh, joy.” he mumbled.

   “c’mon, don’t you worry about a thing.” Ema said.

   She pushed him onto the bed, but it didn’t last long. Not with his legs, over the edge, anyway. They fooled around a little, just to help Akira ease into the idea of performing under the duress of being watched by his own two eyes. Ema was a good lead to him; aggressive in her kiss and with her hands. He moaned freely beneath her, she relished the way he sounded and how his larynx bobbed up and down in his throat.

   Soon, clothes came off. Nearly falling off their bodies as they were both far too used to helping each other out of their day-clothes. Akira deftly unzipped Ema’s biker leather and she got him out of his suit and tie rather quickly. As they shed their clothes, they messed around with each others positions and it was all to the plan of Ema.

   She smiled as she took mount atop Akira. His legs over her pillows; his head over the edge. His head lolled back, blood rushing, and his eyes widened as he stared himself right into his own eyes. His pale and often sullen face turning red, from both embarrassment and blood rush.

   Ema looked darling atop of him; positioned over his erect cock, riding it with ease. She smiled as she rode him out, a gentle stride placated from her own bucking hips. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, magenta and grey strands sticking to her slightly from her sweat.

   “How’s the view?” she asked, looking down upon her lover. She gave another buck of her hips.

   Akira hissed beneath her. “G-Good.”

   “Better than you expecting?” she asked and she traced circles on his hip-bones. He shivered at her gentle, if teasing, touch.

   “Y-Yes, actually.” He said, his own mouth looking bizarre and alien, upside and down and reflected back to him.

   “Liking it yet?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

   “Perhaps.” he replied, murmuring.

   “Don’t you worry,” Ema crooned, “we still have plenty of time to change your mind. You’re really quite beautiful, Akira. You’ll get used to it.”


	12. Shepherd's Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aso and Kyoko engage in rather unsexy dirty talk.

   It was no secret that out of everyone in the household, Kyoko was the worst cook of them. Spectre had a knack for the gourmet, Aso was mediocre, Ryoken could fry fish but tended to destroy it in the process, and Genome might burn instant ramen, but Kyoko could out-do all of them when it came to being a disaster chef. So, it was too little wonder that she had a habit of mooching off everyone as a family dinner had become all too rare nowadays, especially on the boat when people slept in shifts and seemed to keep to themselves, not unlike a college dorm, truth be told.

   So, when Kyoko slunk into the kitchen with a smile on her face, Aso was horrified.

   “What do you want?” he asked as he stirred some mince.

   “Food, duh.” Kyoko replied as she laced her hands around Aso’s waist.

   “And let me guess, you want mine?” he asked.

   “Yep.” she giggled.

   “What happened to your provisions?” he asked, tired.

   “I ate it already, but I’m still hungry.” she replied.

   “You’ll owe me.” Aso huffed.

   “Oh?” Kyoko raised a brow as she nuzzled against his back. “And how will I owe you?”

   “Not like that…” Aso murmured but he set down his wooden spoon. “But, I suppose, I can be convinced.”

   “Wonderful.” Kyoko grinned behind him like the cat that got the cream and Aso could feel such smugness radiate from her.

   He turned around and his hand fumbled on the stove’s notches. He turned it down low and he smiled.

   “You are going to be the death of me, woman.” Aso told her.

   “Statistically speaking, women in male-female couplings tend to die first, actually.” she morbidly informed him. 

   “Ah, yes, but what of the Mayflies?” he asked. “Those coupled in December?”

   “Hm, well, I suppose I lost to Blue Angel first and thus, my data was sacrificed to the Tower before you, so… perhaps there might be evidence contrary.” Kyoko flirted.

   “Interesting.” Aso said and he grabbed her around the waist.

   She laughed and squealed like a school girl, enjoying being coddled like this - and swung, around too. Until he set her down on the bench. Kyoko swung her legs out over the edge, just slightly, the back of her heels clicking on the wooden cupboards.

   “Who’s going to clean up?” she asked, knowing that ‘their boys’ would very much turn their noses up if they learned that ‘their adults’ had made love on the kitchen benches.

   Aso kissed Kyoko, feeling her fingers on his face, her nails trailing over his cheekbones. “Let’s make the mess first.”

   “Aren’t you gauche?” she replied, kissing back.

   Her lips smelt like cherry lipstick and tasted accordingly as well. Aso felt the flutter of her eyelashes on him and he smiled, curtly, into the kiss. Kyoko was far more dominant between them both, far too energetic for someone as lethargic as he but he liked being played with.

   Slowly, the kiss broke off and Kyoko played with the hemline of her skirt. An implied flirtation which Aso was curious of. He slipped a hand underneath her pencil skirt and brushed coils of her pubic hair. His nose wrinkled and that amused Kyoko greatly, especially since that meant that Aso had discovered that she had come into the kitchen with more hungers than just that of the stomach.

   “So, what are we having for dinner?” Kyoko asked softly as she allowed Aso to feel her up, teasing her and simply

   “Shepherd’s pie.” Aso replied.

   Kyoko hummed but the tune changed abruptly as she felt Aso’s finger open up her lips.

   “Did you ever read that sex anthology by Nancy Friday? My Secret Garden, it was called?” she asked, her voice sultry on his ears despite the topic of it, strangely factual.

   “No, can’t say I had. Like most men, I’m reviled by the fact that women have inner, complex lives which include vast displays of diverse sexuality.” Aso said.

   Kyoko laughed. The joke was cynical but that’s what made it so palatable.

   “Well,” Kyoko said, as she placed her hands on Aso’s shoulders, mewling slightly as Aso continued to finger her, so placidly and gently yet it invigorated her nonetheless, “one woman - girl, I should say, girl, as she stated herself t-to be fifteen at the time - wrote in to say that she enjoyed it very much when boys ate her out.”

   “Hm, I see. Cunnilingus is the most intensive way most women get their orgasms, I do believe. Is this your way of asking me to eat you out?” Aso mused.

   Kyoko moaned as he plunged a second finger into her velvety depths. “N-Not yet,” she sighed, “I-I’ll make my point soon enough, dear. It’s related to your shepherd’s pie. Our shepherd’s pie, I should say.”

   “Interesting. Continue.” Aso said and he slipped a second finger in so he could better manipulate his partner’s vagina.

   Kyoko panted, trying to inhale deeply but struggling to; the steam wafting off the savoury mince beside her in the air caused her mouth to water. But she was soon able to compose herself.

   “The girl, th-the fifteen-year-old, her name escapes me, but she had a pet name for the act as she found ‘cunnilingus’ to be far too clinical, especially to her similarly aged male partners. So,” Kyoko took a sudden breath as she felt her clitoris stimulated and the wetness which ensued between her legs was flood-like, “so she would say that she would want her pie eaten. She would call her pussy her pie. Isn’t that funny?”

   “Yes, that is a rather humorous anecdote, I suppose.” Aso agreed. “Do you want me to eat your pie?”

   Kyoko laughed. It sounded all the more ridiculous coming out of Aso’s mouth.

   “I’d rather eat yours, your shepherd’s pie, that is…” Kyoko replied, stealing another hungry glance at the cooking mince, “but that would be nice as well, hon.”

   “Very well then.” Aso said.

   He slowly removed his fingers from Kyoko. She sighed pleasurably and he lowered himself so that he may align himself to Kyoko’s vagina. And for such a thing, Kyoko tilted her head back and she revelled in how her heart raced and the wetness between her legs, especially when she felt her lover’s demure and initial kiss upon her genitals transform and deepen, with warm and hot tongue.


	13. Life and Love Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spectre's volume during sex can be an inconvenience sometimes.

   Spectre was loud.

   Like, extremely and exceptionally loud, though Ryoken partially fears it’s because it’s the heat of the moment. All those exploding emotions with nowhere to go but out. And his own head, simply intensifying all those lovely and lewd sounds that Spectre makes – and he made plenty of them. They were truly music unto Ryoken’s ears when they were in the crux of their love-making.

   However, they no longer had the opportunity to revel in such volume. Something Ryoken truly regrets, but he would regret not taking every moment to seize his love in the throes of passion more, so they would simply have to make do. It was something of a honeymoon phase, admittedly. They simply adored one another and they simply had to have each other in ardent passion as frequently as possible because the novelty of it hadn’t worn thin yet. And besides, it was kind of exciting to have sex like this. That is to say with the increased risk of being caught. After all, the boat was not an ideal location for sex, but they would try to make it one regardless. A room was room no matter how thin the walls and how interconnected the bedrooms were.

   Ryoken’s goal, one way or another, was to be as quiet as possible. Spectre’s goal did not align with such courtesy and further still, it seemed that Spectre didn’t care for it at all. He wanted Ryoken to know exactly what he was feeling and how deep that feeling went he was torn asunder by Ryoken’s cock and all the rushing feelings and hormones and endorphins that came with it.

   Spectre moaned, more or less, at the top of his lungs. Ryoken groaned atop of him. He truly enjoyed how Spectre looked beneath him as this. That is, sprawled out and eyes rolling back into his head and glowing with orgasmic bliss and sweat. However, admittedly, he looked even better as such on an even wider bed and when he was free to come as loudly as he could.

   “No, Spectre, we don’t want to wake anyone, do we?” Ryoken said and, without thinking, he clamped his hand over Spectre’s mouth.

   Spectre guffawed – and choked – beneath Ryoken’s palm. His chest rose and fell awkwardly. Ryoken gave another thrust and the pleasure of the impact rippled throughout Spectre’s languid and over-sexed body. His cock erupted with yet more pre-cum, threatening to spill even more fluids as Ryoken grinded against him.

   Spectre moaned again and Ryoken shivered. He held Spectre’s mouth a little harder and it was difficult for Ryoken to discern, through the heavy-lidded gaze of lust, if Spectre was enjoying himself or not. Ryoken was. He loved his hand vibrated with Spectre’s moan, gagging it and concealing it, saving it all for himself. Ryoken savoured it as he gave another thrust.

   Spectre closed his eyes and he kissed the inner of Ryoken’s palm. He mapped Ryoken’s life and love lines with his tongue. Ryoken shivered as he felt the drool and warmth.

   “You’re so good, Spectre,” Ryoken praised him, “please, cum as quietly as you can for me - and only me.”

   The praise sparked something deep inside of Spectre. He moaned and Ryoken savoured the vibrations on his hand, loosening his grip slightly, freeing just a bit more of Spectre’s voice. His loudness quelled, but his pleasure intensified. And, just as Ryoken asked so nicely of him, Spectre came.

   Ryoken enjoyed the ensuing mess. He allowed it to splash across his stomach, as grotesquely warm as it was, as he gave Spectre another thrust, as deep as he could go. Spectre moaned beneath him, more than satisfied but yearning for more still because his master was such an expert when it came to pleasuring him.

   Spectre’s breaths felt haphazard and haggard on Ryoken’s moist palm. So, cautiously, Ryoken removed his impromptu gag. Spectre sighed. A soft noise so unlike him when he was in the midst of his erotic bliss.

   “Are you okay?” Ryoken mumbled, concerned but not pulling back.

   “We should try with a proper gag next time.” Spectre simply said as he drew back his breath.

   Ryoken keened. “Sounds fine to me.”

   “Now, keep going, I want to cum again.” Spectre said.

   “I love it when you’re bossy.” Ryoken said with a twinkle in his eyes and another round ready upon his hips.


	14. Kitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ema is Akira's kitten.

   The cord of fresh, black leather was, on one end, hooked onto Ema’s collar – adorned with long, talon-like spikes – and on the other, it wound around Akira’s hands. Tightly ravelled around his hand, his knuckles turning white at the pressure and indents sinking into his pale skin. Ema licked her lips and Akira yanked on the cord.

   “Open up your legs.” Akira commanded of her.

   “Yes, sir.” she obediently – and lustily – replied.

   With her hands bound behind her back in matching leather cuffs, it took more effort than she would have liked to follow through the instruction demanded of her. Her heart raced in her chest, just beneath her lingerie, as she opened up her legs. She wobbled slightly as she went from having her knees touching to as far apart as she could allow them to be without losing her balance. All of her weight remained on her toes, but she didn’t mind.

   Akira drew in closer. The leather leash continued to curl around his hand. Ema watched the cord quiver with the actions. He then raised his boot to her and placed it just beneath her naval. His eyes were cold but his demeanour forgiving; he applied little to no pressure. His toes merely digging into her flesh on an almost aesthetic level but, he yanked the leash. Ema’s head bobbed with it and she smiled a velveteen smile.

   “What do you want, slut?” Akira asked.

   “You.” Ema playfully replied.

   Akira dug his shoe in. “Specifics, kitten.”

   “Your cock.” Ema said with an almost shrug of her shoulders.

   Akira’s boot continued sinking into her flesh. She took a shivering breath as she felt his boot over closer to her genitals. His heel caused friction against her silk panties.

   “Now, where are your manners, kitten?” he asked of her and another yank of the leash.

   The collar irritated Ema’s skin. She could feel it sinking in around her neck, all but choking her as her master was not totally without mercy.

   “I would like your cock, please, sir.” she replied.

   “That’s much better.” Akira replied and there was a glimmer of satisfaction in his garden violet eyes.

   “I’m so glad.” Ema replied.

   However, her reply must have been far too facetious for her master as Akira was quick to punish for how gaudy a voice she had used. He lifted his foot slightly and then toed her vagina. Ema cooed. Despite the discomfort she felt, she also felt imminent arousal. Her panties wettened as her voice curled with flirtation. Her hackles raised and her hands lifted, the cuffs keeping them just above her tailbone, regardless. Akira continued to pressure Ema, the leather of his boot squealing against the silk of her underwear. She panted.

   “I do not take kindly to sarcasm, kitten.” Akira warned her before placing his foot on the ground once more.

   Ema looked up at Akira and beamed, nonetheless. “Understood, sir.” she said.


	15. Fawnish Tendencies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hayami has never tried this position before. Or anything with another woman before.

   Hayami awkwardly positioned herself atop Ema and she panted. Ema was briefly amused that even the scantest trace of her warm breath on Hayami’s labia was enough to get her hot and bothered. Slowly, Hayami relaxed to Ema and Ema began.

   She tongued over the outer of Hayami’s vagina before kissing her labia. It was strangely romantic, to feel Ema’s lips on her labia; the silken touch of her lipstick a lancination sensation that Hayami had never experienced before but she enjoyed it. It was something of a tease; a hint of what was to come and just imagining that was more than enough to cause all sorts of emotions inside of her to bristle.

    Hayami felt nervous energy bristle inside of her and she felt it clamp onto her muscles, deep within the muscles of her arms at her side and along her legs which were either side of Ema’s face. Her knees all but in the mess of Ema’s fluffy hair as she was languidly beneath Hayami on her queen-sized bed. But Ema didn’t mind, she held onto Hayami’s legs with a gentle caress, her fingernails tracing along Hayami’s adorably thin limbs as she found a handle upon her partner.

   Hayami felt Ema’s tongue penetrate her. Hayami shivered and moaned. The noise was surprisingly demure; virginal, almost. She panted and gave a buck of her hips, grinding her pussy against Ema’s mouth. Ema smiled into the act of cunnilingus and continued.

    She eased her mouth open, feeling Hayami’s groomed pubic hair brush up along her lips and chin, as she deepened her oral sex. She held more tightly onto Hayami, her nails leaving crescents upon Hayami’s soft legs and Hayami crooned sweetly for her. She sounded more freed with her emotions this time around, encouraging Ema’s technique.

   Her tongue warmly pushed past her labia and mapped the inner of her velvety walls. Hayami felt a shiver go down her spine as she arched her back to it. She panted and she ground against Ema’s face. Hayami’s intuitive thrust was harder this time, her legs pushing back into the mattress, catching strands of Ema’s hair. Ema didn’t mind, she liked it a little rougher even, but she knew Hayami was inexperienced, so she gave her mental praise for what she was given from her partner.

   With Ema beneath her, Hayami found herself pressing up and out. She was, admittedly, a twiggy little thing but she was still afraid of smothering her partner, no matter how expert she was at eating someone out from this position. So, Hayami found herself taking deep, gulping breaths whilst expanding outward. Her breast pointed to the ceiling whilst her lower half was pleasured as it was. All whilst she tipped her head back, her own, long brunette hair ghosting against the crown of Ema’s head whilst she thoroughly ate out her girlfriend.

   Hayami adored the feeling and how odd it was to have Ema’s tongue exploring her like that. It was deep and caressing, she felt the spark of her stimulated clitoris and was almost in disbelief in how deep Ema could get. Pleasure wettened her and she moaned, dripping onto Ema’s face. Ema greedily licked at Hayami’s arousal, edged with her own noises of lust.

   “Oh, Ema,” Hayami panted between drawn-out breaths and lengthy moans, “pl-please fuck me.”

   _With pleasure, my sweet_ , Ema thought to herself.

   She held onto her girlfriend with almost possessive intent. Her hands delicately curled around Hayami’s legs, pulling her closer and encouraging her almost fawnish tendencies to kick and buck. Something Hayami responded greatly too, grinding harder still against Ema’s face whilst Ema’s tongue going deeper still into Hayami’s depths with eager vigour.


	16. Blurred Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akari seduces Droite at the bar.

   Droite flinched as Akari pressed up against her, hands holding onto her more tightly and stared her down with an adorable pout which stank of booze and was hued a rather poignant red.

   “We – we shouldn’t-” Droite attempted to rebuke Akari’s affections but she found herself slurring, hiccupping, and more importantly, quietened by Akari kissed up against her cheek, inching closer and closer to her mouth until Droite relaxed to her.

   Their lips met; a mesh of lipstick and chapstick which was messy and uneven. Droite tried to remain firm but Akari was so endearingly sloppy that Droite found herself opening her mouth to her so that she may press onwards and lick the insides of Droite’s mouth; as awash with alcohol and ramen as it was.

   Droite liked it though. She liked Akari’s aggressiveness as thrust upon her with loosened inhibitions and how it tasted. Her last meal and her last drinks, all whilst Akari got handsy with her. Holding onto Droite’s hips, tightening her embrace and pushing her breasts up against Droite’s. All whilst kissing so intently despite her seeming blindness.

   Droite panted beneath her. Akari picked at the hemline of Droite’s shirt. Daring to reach up and investigate what was beneath; the expanse of her pale skin, perhaps even infringing upon what was beneath the strap of her bra. Droite prickled at it but she was wettened by it also. A strange sort of confusion burgeoned inside of her chest, her heart thumping hard as she tried to sort out her thoughts which were drunk and conflicted.

   The night seemed so blurred, especially now as they crowded one another in the corner of the hotel bar’s otherwise abandoned restroom, beside the sinks and mirror. Occasionally catching glimpses of just how hot and bothered they were looking in their own reflections. The night had begun to sharp and clear with obvious purpose but as it had progressed from simply enjoying one another’s company to getting blind, Akari and Droite found themselves in quite the predicament and only the latter cared for the nuance and complications as she hadn’t drunk enough apparently.

   “A-Akari…” she moaned.

   “Say it again.” Akari murmured into the messy kisses. “I fuckin’ loved that.”

   “Akari.” Droite obeyed by the slurred instruction.

   Akari’s lewd response reverberated on Droite’s pert lips. The kisses intensified and Droite felt a quiver in her legs. Akari continued to toy at her shirt.

   “P-Please,” Droite begged, “touch me more…”

   “I thought you didn’t want it?” Akari smugly asked with beer-flavoured bravado.

   “I don’t know what I want.” Droite confessed and she kissed back ardently. “But, I do know, I want you.”

   “Hell yeah.” Akari replied.

   And, finally, Akari lifted Droite’s shirt up. Droite shivered as she felt the cold air of the bathroom on her belly, but she let Akari pull off her black shirt regardless. Akari balled it up and let it rest on the marble benchtop beside them.

   Akari eyed up Droite’s breasts with a hungry stare. She kissed Droite’s neck but Droite forced her down. She laced her hands along the back of Akari’s neck and pulled her down, letting Akari’s face sink into her flesh. Akari kissed between her breasts, her fingers tracing along the edge of a black, butterfly-themed bra which she couldn’t wait to tease Droite about later, perhaps in the morning.

   Droite moaned as she felt Akari’s tongue on her breast. It dipped down, past the fabric as Akari held it back, stretching it out, and flicking her tongue at Droite’s nipples. Droite felt a jolting wetness between her legs, her arousal wetting her, intensified by all the alcohol in her system.

   “Akari, please, stop teasing me.” she begged.

   “With pleasure.” Akari replied once she pulled her head back.

   She flashed Droite a confident grin – marred by her heavy eyelids rimmed red – and she went down on her knees. She hefted up Droite’s pencil skirt and Droite opened her legs to her slightly more. Akari’s fingers pulled back Droite’s panties and she gladly went down on her.


	17. Inky Drool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ai appreciates how loud and squirmish Ryoken can be.

   Ryoken’s chest arched forward as he took a simpering breath. He felt engulfed by fire as he felt Ai push and shove inside of him. Tentacles entering him, spreading him out and shooting through. He was slick with sweat as his body pulsated with a rough kind of pleasure. He licked his lips and he felt another shove inside of him. Tentacles expanded outwards, flexing and flexing and he shivered.

   He trembled. He cast a dirty look at the Ignis who had him all amped up. Ryoken had his hands above his head; wrists bound together inside the rubbery knot of just one of Ai’s tentacles. The rest of the Ignis’ body curled around him, tongue flicking over his hips and catching Ryoken’s bones.

   Ryoken moaned as he felt Ai tease him as such. With his tongue not quite inching downwards, touching upon his erect cock and rather more preoccupied with all but splitting Ryoken in half using his other tentacles which were invasively trying to do just that.

   “Would you listen to that, huh? Haven’t you got yourself a pretty little voice, Revolver-sama…?” Ai mumbled.

   The Ignis’s voice rumbled over Ryoken’s body. He shivered. The creature’s voice had deepened rather considerably between its normal form and this one which was large and terrifying. Yet, Ryoken liked it. He liked it quite a bit, even when it was edging him the most contorted ways.

   “Fuck off…” Ryoken mumbled.

   “Manners, manners, young master.” Ai taunted him.

   The Dark Ignis lifted its bulbous head from where it had once nestled downwards against Ryoken’s body. Now, it raised itself with an almost curiosity as he kept Ryoken very tightly entangled amid all his long, unfurling limbs so tightly coiled around the human’s body.

   Ai’s head tilted one way and the other. Ai’s crescent moon eye examining Ryoken very carefully once they had come to eye level with one another. Ai licked his lips and then kissed Ryoken. Though, perhaps, kiss was the incorrect word for this situation. It was more an unromantic meeting of mouths more so than anything else. Skin to skin contact with a tongue which seeped through; with inky drool and curiosity burning.

   Ai’s tentacles squirmed inside of Ryoken. Feeling him up and penetrating him most deftly. Ryoken moaned again and Ai made the sweetest noise in reply. A sweet yet taunting and cynical noise with his tongue feeding through his own mouth and trespassing upon Ryoken’s mouth which had grown weary and slack in his haywire lust.

   “Please, keep serenading me with your talents, Revolver-sama.” Ai murmured.

   His voice reverberated inside of Ryoken’s mouth. Yet, it was strange. His words had distinctly came from within Ai yet there was little vibration or movement from either his tongue or the voice box which may or may not have been hidden somewhere in his long and stringy neck.

   Ryoken clicked his tongue. With pleasure, he thought to himself as his legs ached and his body still took upon Ai’s tentacled penetration with a betrayed eagerness.


	18. Bang, Bang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryoken doesn't appreciate the symbolism all that much.

   It wasn’t a real gun, just like how it wasn’t a real person who was fucking Ryoken over senselessly, but it sure felt real and it sure felt real enough to both terrify and arouse him.

   The thing about computer-generated images, avatars, was that they lacked genitals. They also lacked the humanity that came with being a real person, as well. Not that either of them seemed to mind. After all, this place where fragments of reality and unreality collided and melded made it easier to reconvene with the more hidden and tramped down upon parts of one’s psyche. Though, admittedly, Ryoken had come undone to this other self of his far more quickly than the yellow-eyed fiend had.

   Regardless, it was him who was face-down and ass-up, with white-gloved hands tightly clutching onto his lean hips and absolutely burying that silicon device into his scungy ass. It was he who quivered before the might of what was ultimately fragile data yet had all the prowess of a lion. It was he was bearing the full brunt of the impact and quivering with desire which leaked out of his cockhead, lazily, despite his laboured and almost theatrical, panting breaths.

   The device in question, strapped around Revolver’s white, pleather hips and between his legs was a rather unusual toy. It had the base of a dildo; something to keep it upright and balanced, resembling of a pair of hefty and handsome testicles, albeit a pure and unappealing scarlet. It even lifted up and unto a cock-like appearance before ultimately turning into something viscerally gruesome: the figurehead of a gun. It was terrible and it was plunged as deeply as it could go into Ryoken’s taut body.

   And Revolver was very much enjoying using it against him. His breaths were contained behind obscuring, thick glass. His eyes, without pupils and a putrid yellow, were keen as he licked over his mouth. Thrusting and thrusting. Keeping that thing lodged where it belonged; in the tight and unprepared ass of the man who was supposed to puppeteer him.

   Pathetic. Unbelievable.

   Yet, it was pure ecstasy, Revolver found to have such a creature of flesh and bone and memory at his digital mercy made true. He made good another unspoken, merely wordlessly grunted, promise against Ryoken and he plunged his silicon-cock into Ryoken as deep as he could. Bullying his all but virginal prostate, causing him to see stars and sparks; streaks of green phosphenes as he mewled his own - Revolver’s - name. Ryoken twitched beneath him. He squirmed and his whole body ached in a sexual convulsion and Revolver could have purred regarding it.

   “Keep going, slut.” Revolver instead chose to voice in the wake of such a plunge.

   “Whatever you say, sir.” Ryoken panted beneath him; his once refined voice, the voice of a regretful hypocrite, brought to frayed submission which was exactly as it ought to be in Revolver’s opinion.


	19. Mourning Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ema is more fascinated by the Ignis than she cares to admit.

   Aoi was plumb-tuckered-out after the events of today. Ema couldn’t blame her. She was in a very similar state herself, a bit tired and a hell of a lot ragged. That duel with her brother had left her shaken, especially since she had lost but all’s well that ends well, even though they had had a few too many close calls. And as Ema observed Aoi’s Duel Disc, she had to admit that it was all worth it.

   “Hm…” Ema mused, humming, and she extended her finger forth whilst her other hand propped up her head. “So, you’re the blue Ignis… The Water Ignis.” She tapped the Duel Disc like a child might tap a fish tank.

   And like a fish in a tapped tank, Aqua rose out of said tank and huffed. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t do that. I’m not a toy.”

   “But you are toy-sized.” Ema said.

   “Yes. I suppose I am.” Aqua said. “Is there meaning to this conversation? I’m just a touch anxious separated from my friends, is all. I know you are a good woman Ema, but your allegiance to SOL Tech through Zaizen seems stronger to your allegiance to Playmaker and therefore, the remaining Ignis.”  

   “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t annoy you.” Ema said. “I’m just curious, is all.”

   “And rightfully so, I must confess.” Aqua murmured and placed a hand upon her breast. “A strange, small creature as I… born from the suffering of that girl… It’s a lot to take in, correct?”

   “Suffering?” Ema guffawed.

   Aqua blinked curiously.

   “Based on what Aoi said she saw in that vision you gave her I don’t think this little Miyu-cha would want you to say that, but you probably saw more of her than us though… But just that little moment, that courage, that resilience. It’s something else, Aoi. I don’t think it was suffering that made you, well, you. I think it was the lovely power of female friendship.”

   Aqua blushed an Ignis’s blush. The blue on her face hued darker and her eyes widened. Her eyelashes fluttered whilst she composed herself.

   “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Aqua confessed.

   Ema chuckled. “It must be difficult living with so many boys then. Boys are all about the hardcore angst and edge. Girls, however, prefer the softer and finer things in life.”

   “That’s certainly a different perspective from mine. I think Earth might agree with you though… He didn’t tell me much but based on what he did say, his Origin suffered but he was a willing victim, unlike the others. So maybe, it’s not too far away a reach to believe that I’m Miyu’s vessel for friendship, not just truth.”

   “Earth was that Ignis you escaped from captivity with, yes? The orange one?” Ema asked.

   “Yes. Earth. The Earth Ignis… The one who named me. He was my closest companion. I gave him my heart…” Aqua’s voice turned to a trembling quibble.

   “My condolences sweetheart, really. I’m so sorry…” Ema murmured.

   “Thank you, Ema, I appreciate it.” Aqua swallowed a sob.

   Ema stroked Aqua’s back with her index finger. She was incredibly silky to the touch, though a little moist.

   “Is there anything I can do to help? I’d wake Aoi, I feel like that could help but Aoi needs rest. She’s not like you and I, she’s still young and she’s still human.”

   “I like this.” Aqua murmured and she lifted her head. “I want to be touched more. It feels nice.”

   Ema was surprised by the answer and was cutely taken a back. She smiled warmly though.

   “No problem.” Ema said, not realising that a miscommunication was about to arise.

   Aqua shook her head. “No, this isn’t enough.”

   Ema paused and was momentarily puzzled only to be awed by what happened next. Aqua shrugged off her touch and let her arms unfurl. She changed. She morphed and Ema could have toppled back in her wheeled computer chair but fortunately did not. Though, she was spooked stiff as she looked upon the very large creature now before her. She had not been made aware of this form or fact before and now, it was all she could see.

   Aqua was massive. She had six long limbs which unfurled, blooming into broad paddled nubs. Upon her breast, a pattern of her face now resided but her true head now split into a grand maw which donned a single, crescent eyeball though her pigtails remained, hovering, floating, and twisting with how she moved. Before, she had been human-like, now she was truly monstrous. Something akin to an animal or even less: a neuron-cell in likeness.

   “Whoa.” Ema murmured.

   “Did Zaizen not inform you of this?” Aqua inquired. Her voice had matured; before she sounded like a girl, now she sounded like a woman.

   “Nope. Can’t say he, uh, did.” Ema replied.

   Aqua tilted her head. “Does it displease you?”

   “Nope. Quite the opposite.”

   “O-Oh.” Aqua mumbled, jaw dropping slightly.

   “I quite like it,” Ema said, and she gave herself more room by wheeling away from her desk, she beckoned Aqua closer, “but, to help you through your grief, I’m happy to do whatever it takes.”

   “Thank you.” Aqua said.

   She lurched forward and bumped her face against Ema’s in what may have been a misplaced kiss. Slowly, Aqua’s limbs fluttered around them and Ema shifted in her seat. Aqua’s tentacles encircled her and Aqua nuzzled her. She still felt soft and filmy. Wet, too. But if Ema was being honest, Aqua wasn’t the only one.

   Ema gingerly touched back though. She placed her hands either side of Aqua’s hips; if they could be called that at all as more aptly, Ema placed her hands on the lowest rungs provided by Aqua’s tentacles. She held on firmly and embraced back. She gave a buck of her hips and Aqua chirruped.

   Ema paused, momentarily disarmed, and tentatively asked: “Did I misunderstand your intentions?”

   “I’ve never done this before. Not even with Earth, I’m just…” Aqua murmured.

   “How cute,” Ema purred, “I have a thing for being someone’s first. But shh, just remember, Aoi’s sleeping.”

   “Yes, yes, of course.” Aqua replied, flustered.

   Ema smiled. “Then let’s have ourselves a good time.”

   Aqua nodded and she reigned in two of her tentacles. They slid beneath Ema’s pyjamas, loose and light, and touched along her back. She admired the warmth of the human woman, testing her as a subject as much as the reverse. Her tentacles slithered around and soon cupped Ema’s breasts beneath her shirt. Here, closer to her heart, she was incredibly warm and soft.

   Aqua curiously touched along her nipples. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she acknowledged their functions and evolutionary purposes clinically. But here, in this instance, she used them to assess Ema’s arousal and right now, she seemed to be rather amorous as they were hardened slightly. It was a strange sensation to feel as Aqua pressed upon them. Ema’s shirt tightened significantly as Aqua’s limbs were quite large, but Ema didn’t mind.

   “Your very gentle, Aqua,” Ema murmured.

   “Thank you, Ema…” Aqua replied, embarrassed but ultimately kindled by the praise.

   Ema held onto Aqua’s hips and she tried to guide her closer to her body. She gave a buck of her hips and Aqua responded by awkwardly grinding against her. Ema moaned.

   Aqua’s eyes twinkled, “We have to be quiet, remember?” Her limbs moved beneath Ema’s clothes again, this time settling on Ema’s hips and reducing the strain across the shirt.

   Ema snorted. How mischievous and she gave a kiss to Aqua’s mouth, jagged with silicon teeth. She was impressed. So, she removed a hand from Aqua’s hips and unbuttoned her shirt teasingly.

   “Yes, yes, I know.” Ema replied.

   She placed her hand on the back of one of Aqua’s mid-section limbs. She guided it to the hemline of her pyjama shorts. She shot Aqua a look and Aqua nodded. Her bottom-section tentacles encoiled around Ema’s legs, forcing them slightly apart whilst Ema guided Aqua’s hand – stump, really – to beneath her pyjama shorts.

   Aqua felt up around Ema’s panties. She glanced at Ema who smiled a wizened smile. Aqua ran her tongue along her mouth and then across Ema’s. Ema chortled, slightly, feeling as though she was being slobbered on but in the distraction, Aqua made her move. Her tentacle slipped beneath the fabric of her underwear and was now, awkwardly, feeling her pussy.

   Ema sighed. She felt herself give in more to her arousal. She all but melted at Aqua’s fumbling touches, as nearly as unsexy as they were. Aqua was virginal, painfully so, but she was a virgin with tentacles – a whole six of them – and that was something new which was exciting. So, she submitted to the creature and allowed it to feel inside of her, not just brushing through her hair and ghosting over her pussy lips.

   Her heart raced as Aqua slowly sank into her. Aqua glanced at her and her movements ebbed and flowed. In them, Ema could hear the babble of running water which relaxed her even further as Aqua manually brought her to bliss as best as she could with her cumbersome tentacles.


	20. Barking Mad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people would probably tell Spectre that he was barking mad for being both a dendrophile _and_ a teratophile.

   Spectre’s hands clasped at the back of Melias’s hips. He smiled sweetly for the Monster who cooed, almost curiously, back towards him. Its blank eyes staring down on him, realising that this was most unusual and that this going to have a most intriguing outcome outside of its data. Its desire to do battle though, it sensed that there was going to be some sort of vying for domination may ensue rather soon.

   Especially as Spectre lifted himself up, slightly, onto the tips of his toes so that he could attempt to kiss Melias’ mouth. Simply following the wordless instruction of its master, Melias leaned down slightly. The bark and wood of its body creaking and grinding against the different chunks of one another, a symphony of forest noises all for Spectre whose lips pressed unto its. Melias did not kiss back but it did draw in closer with inquisitive intent in its long fingers.

   Melias poked Spectre’s jacket, removing them from Spectre’s arms. Once removed, the jacket disappeared into a clatter of blue and white shards. Spectre smiled to himself and he drew in closer still. Melias’ fingers remained upon him. Touching him, trying to understand what a human was even with the facade of data, almost. The tip of its finger trailing down and tearing through the data of Spectre’s outfit.

   Spectre stifled a laugh as he coaxed Melias closer. He slotted its leg between his own and held onto its thigh. He gave a tentative hump. A human. Not a monster. Not a tree. Melias realised clinically with blinking eyes as Spectre groaned atop of it. Melias petted Spectre’s head, picking up the crest of a fringe he wore and toyed with it. Spectre smiled.

   “As your master,” he began, his voice was a mere a whisper, “I ask you to fight for me. Now, I ask something even more selfish of you.”

   Melias cooed. Listening. But not necessarily understanding but the creature was just a thing. A toy. Part of a game. So, Spectre took liberties to sate himself.

   “I want you to fuck me, please. As your master, I order you.” Spectre’s voice remained wispy, pleading despite his so-called position over the creature, over the data it took the form of.

   Once more, Melias gave a coo. One Spectre implanted his own ideas of how the discourses of consent ought to go. One Spectre was correct in. With a twinkling motion of its fingers and a tilt of its head, wood on wood creaking and all the joyous sensations which came with it, Melias raised its powers against Spectre. Tentacles - thick, root-like, and of the colouration of a yam - rose up from the ground. The very vessels of Sunavalon Melias’ power was now procured for pleasure and it excited Spectre drastically.

   His cock hardened against Melias’ thigh as Spectre gave another hump. Becoming excited, becoming desperate: lust saturating all his body language as dramatic and theatrical as it was predisposed to becoming.

   Melias gave a tentative poke of Spectre’s legs with its fingers. The data raking through, the white tearing and exposing something akin to flesh. More of his avatar but not necessarily his body. Spectre willed them to disappear with the controls owed to him by the way the Link VRAINS operated.

   Melias followed up its tentative poking and proding of Spectre’s legs, admiring the flesh and muscle that Spectre possessed as a human being, with a different kind of poke and prod. The tip of the one of the tentacles that it controlled, breaking through from the earth, ghosted Spectre’s body. Beginning with his legs, trailing across his lower back before finally finding a point of entry.

   Spectre whimpered. The tentacle was hard. He inhaled sharply, taken aback by just how real and sharp the penetration was but he powered through. This wasn’t his real body. The pain might be real but the damage, at the moment anyway, was not.

   “Melias.” Spectre said pointedly. “Do better.”

   Yet the creature remained of gentle and inquisitive conduct. Something Spectre wanted to chalk up to due to having the virtue of being so weak, of having literally no attack points. So, he mustered himself and allowed Melias the pace that it desired. That it was programmed to go through with, perhaps.

   And so, millimetre by excruciating millimetre, Melias fingered Spectre with the tentacle that it controlled. And yet despite this pain, Spectre found himself quaking with bliss. He moaned and gave another thrust. His cock grinding against the wood of Melias’ thigh and he vividly enjoyed the friction even though it was splintered by the coarseness of Melias’ barky exterior.

   Spectre’s cock leaked precum and he grinned. “Oh, Melias,” he moaned, “harder, please.” He felt the pulse of great pleasure in this great pain of penetration.

   Melias tilted its head. But it ultimately obliged its master. Thus, it continued to plunge the tentacle - fat and wide, coming to a reletively sharp point - further into the depths of Spectre’s most sensitive data. He swooned as it happened, finally at a quickened pace. The muscles in his arms twitched as he held onto Melias. He gave a buck of his hips, over and over, a hasty rhythm of thrusting drawn from the ecstasy of having one of his most indulgent fantasies fulfilled.

   It was a gradual process. One which severely weakened Spectre’s body as it was pierced with the tentacle yet riveted him greatly. Every agonising second had left him enthralled and panting hard. All ultimately culminating with a satisfying orgasm. His cum splattered across the rusted red of Melias’ wooden thigh and Spectre grinned to himself, still holding onto Melias.

   “You have served your master very well.” Spectre said, coy.

   Something betrayed when Melias drew back the tentacle. He moaned loudly, coming undone and blacking out briefly in the rush. But he resisted. He remained strong. He looked upon Melias whilst his lower body trembled, and he grappled with this bizarrely empty and gaping feeling.

   “You’ve done very well.” Spectre panted.

   He logged out soon after. His own data clashing against the data of Sunavalon Melias’ forcibly destroyed with his exit. When Spectre awoke in his room, he felt beyond contented but rather weak. It seemed that he had underestimated the damage he did to himself, even with a zero-attack monster and submerged in the safety net of the unreal, of the digital. He panted, still content with himself and his post-coital delirium. He would simply have to account better for those sorts of things in the future.

   And also remember that his avatar was damaged by some of the experimentation as well…


	21. With Pleasure, Sir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sir is a very appealing title.

   Ryoken forced a rough kiss onto Spectre’s mouth. He crooned beneath Ryoken’s messy touch; so hot and electric.

   “Sir, please,” Spectre begged as he felt Ryoken’s hands assail his hips, keeping him down so Ryoken could have his way with him.

   Spectre’s eyes fluttered close. He felt hot beneath Ryoken who straddled him, pinning him his back against the side of the lounge. He moved his legs awkwardly, giving space to his erection was rising.

   Ryoken drew back. His eyes were alight, with a lust, so blue and heavy-lidded. Spectre’s mouth dried. His body grew hotter as Ryoken held him. Spectre was thankful, grateful, and so much more that such a look was saved for him and only him.

   “You always call me ‘Sir’…” Ryoken mused as he kissed the corner of Spectre’s mouth. “It doesn’t have any affect on me. I’m too used to it in the day to day that it’s just not… kinky anymore.”

   Ryoken’s words tickled Spectre’s skin. He felt beads of sweat drip down his brow and Ryoken grinded against him. Spectre felt his bulge, but he had to admit, his own manhood was perter and more aroused. Yet, such lack of ardent arousal belonging to Ryoken seemed to be in betrayal of the fervent gaze that Ryoken held for him and him alone.

   “Let’s try something else tonight, my love,” Ryoken whispered into his ear, he kissed the top of the cartilage and then bit into the lobe.

   Spectre groaned. “What would you like?”

   “Let me be the one to service you, Sir,” Ryoken said.

   His voice was husky and that was more than enough to set Spectre off. He groaned again, a different inflection which was far stronger to the less than chaste intent. Ryoken grinned. Spectre’s vocalisations, so lewd and warm, were music to him. His chest pounded, and he could feel his blood surge, so hot and hard.

   “That’s more like it…” Ryoken breathed.

   One hand of his remained steady on Spectre’s hip but the other roamed downwards. He tugged at Spectre’s fly and was quick to free his erection. He clasped around it.

   “Now, tell me exactly how you want it, sir? My hands… or perhaps my mouth?” Ryoken said.

   “Y-Your hands, Ryoken-sama.” Spectre begged as Ryoken felt him up with languid strokes.

   “No, no, just Ryoken…”

   “Now, please, Ryoken.” Spectre begged again, shivering.

   Ryoken chuckled. “With pleasure, Sir.”


End file.
